


A Mistake

by ThePunkiest



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:11:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePunkiest/pseuds/ThePunkiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Translation: I love you with all my heart, with all my soul. I forgive you. Let’s leave this behind us.</p>
<p> All I want is for you to be my wife.</p></blockquote>





	A Mistake

It was too quiet. You laid awake, back facing your partner. How did this happen? It was only supposed to be one drink; one drink, and you were supposed to leave. But he was so kind, so charming… That he convinced you to stay longer than you should have. His laugh was infectious, and he treated you so nicely… Not that Russia didn’t, of course. It was just that… Russia got _mean_ sometimes. Not violent, he never beat on you. Just… Quiet. With intense glares. He made you feel like a child. Tears pricked your eyes, and you curled up. Fuck. Fuck… Now sobbing soundlessly, you thought back to all the kind things he had done for you. Hell, when you had first met, he offered you his seat on the subway. And his smile when you gratefully took it… He was angelic. “Jesus Christ…” You whispered, your hands wringing the blankets. What the hell could you say to him? How would he react, with you stumbling into the apartment you both shared, at 3:30 AM? He was a nation, not some gullible frat boy! He would know what happened! “Oh, fuck…” You murmured, and brought your hands to your face, trembling.

You felt the man next to you shift, and he threw his arm over your middle and caressed your stomach. You froze. “Good morning,” he whispered, bringing his lips to your neck. You said nothing. “You were wonderful…” He gently kissed your neck and held you to his chest tighter. You bit the inside of your cheek. He lifted his arm to turn your face towards his. “Stop!” You hissed, your voice warbling, and shoved him away. You didn’t need to look at his face to know he was surprised. “What-” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, as you had leaped from the bed and were pulling your tattered bra and panties on. Tears streamed down your face, guilty about jumping into bed with the first man who had looked at you kindly after forming a relationship with Russia, for _betraying_ Russia, and for the inevitable conclusion to both the men’s relationship. You pulled your limp dress over your head, and left the expensive hotel. 

The man pulled his hair back into a ponytail. What had he done wrong?

 

Thank god for GPS. Turned out, the hotel wasn’t far from your apartment. You scrambled for your keys, in front of your door, when you heard the doorknob turn. And there Russia was, wild-eyed, with huge, blotchy patches under his eyes. “(Y/N)!” He cried, pulling you to him and hugging you tightly. He ushered you inside, sitting you on the couch, and hugged you again. The hot drops on your bare shoulder were acid. “W-where were you?” He asked, not moving his head from your neck. His other questions were surrendered as a wracking sob shook his body. “I thought you were… I thought you… Had…” He sobbed again, and let a pathetic whimper slip through his mouth. You were shocked. Russia had _never_ acted so emotionally about _anything_. The closest you had ever seen him get angry was when America brought up the Cold War. And now he was _crying…_ Crying about _you_ not coming home? Internally, you screeched, and your body tensed. Russia brought his head up from your shoulder and stared into your eyes, his relief evident in the way he held you. “W-what’s wrong?” he mumbled softly, lessening his grip on your torso. Your eyes must have looked sorrowful, as Russia stood up straighter. “What’s wrong?” he asked again, stronger this time. You opened your mouth to speak, but as soon as your lips parted Russia kissed you deeply. Your eyes scrunched up and you resisted the urge to pull away and sob. How could you cheat on him like that? You didn’t deserve him. Russia pulled away from you and licked his lips. “You’ve been drinking.” he murmured, gently. You looked again into his darling violet eyes and slowly let your head droop onto his shoulder. Your tears sprung to your eyes like a new fountain, and Russia, startled, wrapped you tightly in his arms. You could have screamed. _You_ betray _him_ and he’s comforting YOU? You started to sob, and Russia quietly spoke to you in his native tongue, his breath warming your ear. You and he sat there like that for a good long time. You sat there until your tears stopped, and his trembles halted. When he asked you where you were for the night, for a second time, you spoke. “I fucked up,” you whispered into his shoulder, and you felt his entire body tense. “How?” he asked, stroking your hair. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes into his tear soaked shoulder. With a great shove, you wrenched yourself from his arms and stepped back to see him in his entirety.

You stood in front of him like the woman who once owned him, and an unintended shudder ran through him. You stared at your boyfriend blankly, readying yourself to tell him you slept with his friend, his _only_ friend. His eyes were wide, his broad shoulders drooped, and his usually sweet face was contorted with barely contained fear. Scared for you, scared for him. You lowered your gaze.

 

“I slept with Yao.”

.

 

..

 

…

 

You didn’t dare move. The only thing you could see of Russia were his feet, clad in socks his sisters had made him, socks that were made with so much love that they had survived much of time’s cruel hand. You could _feel_ Russia bristle as the news of your betrayal hit him in his heart, like a poisoned dagger. And you _felt,_ rather than _heard,_ him stand. You flinched as you saw his shadow raise one of its huge, soft hands. ‘ _Whatever he does to me now… I might deserve it,’_ you thought, as his hand inched nearer and nearer to your face. At the last second you turned your face away, but his soft palm grasped your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

He was crying. But, suddenly, he hugged you. That, alone, made you break into tears once again, and you nearly lost your voice, you were apologizing so much. He pulled away from you to look into your eyes when he had collected himself, and said,

“Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою. я прощаю тебя. Давайте оставим это позади нас.” 

You stared at him in confusion. He _knew_ you didn’t speak Russian. Russia, your Ivan, your love, your one and only, did something strange then. He took your hand. He slipped his hand into his pocket, and took out a ring. He knelt to the floor, still staring you directly in the eyes, and murmured, 

“сё чего я хочу чтобы ты стала моей женой.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: I love you with all my heart, with all my soul. I forgive you. Let’s leave this behind us.
> 
> All I want is for you to be my wife.


End file.
